


Clear Skies and Clean Threads

by tawg



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Non-Hero AU, academic Thor, anyway, flirting and a first date, getting together fic, tailor phil, well really phil works for the tailor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil works for a tailor, Thor needs some new clothes, and each becomes thoroughly enamoured with the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear Skies and Clean Threads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fluxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluxy/gifts).



Phil looked up when the little bell above the door tinkled, signalling a customer. The expression on his face wasn’t welcoming. Instead, it was far closer to irritation and exasperation. Phil was the store manager and chief salesperson of _S. Rogers, Tailor_ , a small store surrounded by similar small, speciality services. He comprised half of the staff, the other half was, of course, Steve Rogers. 

Though the store had been Steve’s endeavour, he had found himself entirely occupied with the tailoring side of things and not so excellent at the ‘running a store at a profit’ part. He was definitely below average at the customer service side of things. Steve just wasn’t great at people, and Phil’s job was to compensate for that. He and Steve had been in the middle of a very polite and reasonably volumed discussion about fabric prices when they had been interrupted by a rather inconsiderate customer. Still, they were nowhere near reaching a compromise on the matter, and customers did tend to keep the store running. Phil gave Steve a look that communicated that there was still further discussion to be had, and then stepped neatly out of the small office and onto the store floor.

The customer was a tall man (very tall), with blond hair that brushed his shoulders and a healthy but tidy beard, and perhaps the most twinkling blue eyes that Phil had ever seen. He smiled warmly at Phil, and Phil felt some of his irritation at Steve lift as he responded with a smile of his own. The man glanced around the store with a fond smile on his face, and Phil used the reprieve from those twinkling eyes to settle his professionalism around his shoulders once more. “Can I help you?” he asked.

An amused look in his direction, and the twinkling eyes took a brief detour away from Phil’s face and down his body before taking the scenic route back up, darting back and forth and talking in the details of Phil’s silver belt buckle, the cufflinks at his wrist, the reading glasses hooked in the breast pocket of his vest. Phil wore a suit and tie to work, though in the summer he tended to favour a tailored vest rather than a suit jacket. It limited his sweat to a vague glow when it came to things like shifting stock or taking measurements or stepping outside during daylight hours. And while Steve had plenty to say on the matter of neglecting the intended composition of a suit, Phil felt that the style was not unbecoming on him. And judging by the lazy assessment he was under, he was not alone in that opinion.

“I suspect so,” the customer replied with a grin. “By the look of you, you are exactly the kind of expert I have been seeking.” Phil raised an eyebrow in inquiry, and was offered a large, rough hand to shake. “Thor Odinson,” the other said by way of introduction. “I need to appear well-groomed and your services were recommended to me. Coulson, yes?”

Phil nodded, and introduced himself properly. He was honestly a little surprised – people tended to assume that he was Steve, since it was Steve’s shop and Steve’s name on all of the signage. Thor had probably been recommended to them by someone who knew the business, which implied that he would have been warned that Steve tended to lock himself away in the back rooms and communicate in grunts when forced to talk to customers. (Many people assumed that Steve was shy and a little socially awkward, and Steve didn’t correct them on that point. The truth was that he was a prickly person and often got into arguments if left unattended. So Phil dealt with people and Steve dealt with fabrics, and there had been no fisticuffs in the store since that arrangement had been reached.)

Thor explained his situation as Phil looked him over and mentally sized him. Phil couldn’t quite pick his age – at first glance he had seemed vibrant and barely out of his twenties, but closer inspection made Phil reconsider. “We are presenting at a conference and I have been informed that my attire is ‘not representing the best aspects of the college’.” 

Phil smiled knowingly. He gave instructional seminars at two universities every year, mainly priming law and medicine students on the rules of middle-class clothing. It also stirred up some business – young people would come in during their last year to try and get something respectable to wear to their first job interviews as graduates. Bespoke suits could be wriggled down within their price range, and Phil sold a lot of ties and shirts and provided Steve with plenty of jackets and blazers to adjust. And it meant that the store name was often passed among the staff of the universities, who passed it on to their friends who had some money to burn and a pressing need to look dapper. Steve disapproved of ‘youths’, with their sticky hands and their ignorance of how much time and effort went into the shitty polyester suits they turned up in. But their business helped to pad the till and to move stock out the door and to keep Steve’s fingers busy.

Thor, however, was not a student. He was a head taller than Phil, and seemed as much as twice as broad in the shoulders. He wore the kind of steel-toed work boots that were pulled on rather than laced up, dark blue jeans that had dirt caked to the cuffs, and a grey t-shirt that was so worn it was becoming translucent where it hugged his well-developed shoulders. Phil had to admit, the godlike physique certainly matched the name.

“What kind of conference is it?” Phil asked, trying to get an idea of the kind of crowd Thor would be mingling with.

“Physics symposium,” Thor said, before leaning conspiratorially close, “I’m a meteorologist.”

Phil let his gaze drift across Thor’s broad shoulders. “I wouldn’t have guessed,” he commented honestly.

“They design the various sensors for our work, and I build them and try to keep them running.” Thor grinned, and gestured to his clothes. “Now I am told that I need to look like someone who doesn’t spend their time welding and hammering the housing units for particle dispersion registers into place.”

Phil treated Thor to the same kind of lingering glance he himself had been treated to earlier, his eyes registering details like the leather band of Thor’s watch, the tan lines on his other wrist which suggested that he had recently taken some bracelets off, the kink in his hair that could be either a natural wave or a sign that he often wore it pulled back into a ponytail. 

“I don’t think we even stock clothes for welding and hammering,” Phil replied. “So I’m sure we can find something for the occasion.”

In truth, there were some hitches in finding attire that fit Thor. Clothes were made with specific body types in mind, and anything from the waist up would need tailoring in order to adequately contain the sheer volume of biceps and pectorals and a variety of muscles that Phil wasn’t even convinced that regular people had. Phil did manage to get Thor into a blue sharkskin suit (Thor had been disappointed to learn that they were not actually made from the skin of sharks, though he made a good show of appearing interested as Phil explained the history and composition of the fabric) but while Phil could pin the shirt and jacket to show the approximate lines they would follow after alterations, Thor was shopping to a deadline and Phil couldn’t guarantee that Steve would be able to get the suit into shape in time. Also, Thor didn’t seem thrilled at the idea of having to come in for a second fitting and a third visit to actually collect the suit. Despite looking very, very good in the ensemble, Thor had a look on his face similar to a cat that had been shooed into a room to be kept out of the way and was determined to find a way out. Something with more leeway for fidgeting and flexing was in order.

They kept the crisp, white shirt that Phil had already pinned into place, and, when Thor frowned at the suggestion of wearing a grey vest with a line of small black buttons down the front, Phil switched gears to sweater vests. Steve and Phil clashed a little on that particular matter, and sadly Phil knew that Steve often held the higher ground. While Phil personally preferred a solid collection of sweaters in respectable, season-appropriate colours, Steve saw them as an opportunity to add some whimsy to an ensemble. Thor tried on a light blue vest with white fluffy clouds breaking up the colour, a deep red one with ribbing styled like little campfires and rising twists of smoke, a cool dark sapphire blue that had some metallic paint roughly dashed across it. All seemed to strike something joyful inside him, and Phil snuck many glances at Thor’s pleased expressions as he fussed about and mined Thor for more information about the conference.

“I have not been to this particular gathering before. It is an annual conference, in Manitoba, dedicated specifically to initial applications of theoretical physics. Jane has wanted to attend for many years, though she has been reluctant to apply before now.” Thor gave Phil an amused look. “The university refused to pay for her registration fee if she did not have any research to share. Now the faculty is paying for three of us to attend rather than just one.”

Phil tried to hide a smirk. “I’m surprised they let you all go.”

Thor’s expression softened. “Jane can be very persuasive,” he said fondly. “But, a condition of our travel was that we represent the department in the best possible light, and so...” Thor gestured at his own form, now looking slightly less rough and tumble in the shirt and sweater vest. It could be dressed up with a tie and blazer, but Thor looked good with the top two buttons of the shirt left undone, open at the neck and showing some of the tanned skin of his chest. 

“Are you presenting?” Phil asked. If Thor was going to be giving a lecture, then perhaps slacks were in order. Phil didn’t know a great deal about physicists, but they had a few academics who dropped in the day before a conference because they had discovered that they no longer fit into their dress shirts. From what Phil had gathered, people at conferences only needed to look impeccable if they were selling something.

“A poster,” Thor said, his chest swelling a little with pride. “Jane is presenting on her work and the process of developing practical applications, and then I will be in the poster hall next to Jane’s mentor, Erik. He will be presenting a poster on the theoretical background.”

“And your poster?” Phil asked.

Thor’s answer was hushed and serious. “Explaining how I hit things with hammers until they are the right shape.” Phil laughed, and Thor’s expression immediately brightened into a pleased smile as his eyes moved over Phil’s face. 

“That certainly sounds like the kind of presentation I’d like to see,” Phil replied. He gestured for Thor to raise his arms part-way, and helped him to wriggle out of the sweater vest in order to ensure that none of the pins holding the shirt beneath in place would scratch the customer or, worse, catch on the wool of the vest.

“Perhaps you would like to see it?” Thor suggested once his head was free of the vest. He reached up with a large hand to push his blond hair away from his face. “We are having a rehearsal presentation the day before we leave.”

Phil hesitated. He wasn’t sure he was the right audience for lectures and presentations about theoretical physics, but there was something about the hopefulness in Thor’s face that made Phil suspect that the invitation might not be entirely about the presentation itself.

“Well,” he said at last, moving to help Thor out of the dress shirt. “Will it be a dress rehearsal?” 

Thor glanced back at Phil over his shoulder, and smiled. “It could be.”

“Then yes, perhaps I should,” Phil replied. 

“Wonderful,” Thor returned, and Phil could feel the word vibrating through Thor’s back and into his own hands as he eased the white shirt away from handsomely tanned shoulders. While Phil was far too old to blush at a vague compliment, he nevertheless felt a spread of warmth at the pleased tone in Thor’s voice.

~*~

   
The physics building was not difficult to find. Thor had drawn Phil a map and had let Phil know that it was the stone building next to the observatory. Phil was more familiar with the Law buildings, and paused on the wide road in front of the observatory to admire the shabby looking building. It had probably a point of pride for the university fifty years ago, but since then students had scratched their initials into the sandstone and the remains of posters glued against the base of the building gave it a tattered look. Phil liked it. He liked things that had a history to them.

Thor encountered him there a few minutes later, walking along laden down with three platters of food, stacked one on top of the other, and several bottles of soda gripped just below the gaps in his strong fingers. “Greetings!” he called as he approached, and Phil responded with a warm smile.

“Nice building,” Phil commented, tipping his head towards the observatory before falling into step beside Thor.

“It’s more interesting on the inside,” Thor replied as they walked up the front steps of the physics building. “I shall have to show you sometime.” Phil felt a warm flutter at the invitation, and the smile remained on his face as he tugged one of the heavy double doors open and stepped aside so Thor could pass through first. 

The physics building was cool and dim, a pleasant contrast from the late-afternoon sun outside. It had been a hot day, and Phil had been thankful to be tucked in the air-conditioned rooms of the store. Thor, in contrast, had a shimmer of sweat across his brow and a damp patch between his broad shoulders. Phil looked Thor over as he trailed along behind him, taking in his narrow waist and the flannel shirt tied around it, the dust on Thor’s shoes and jeans. The curve of his butt was visible and pleasing, despite the layers covering it.

“I apologise,” Thor said conversationally as they made their way up a wide flight of stone steps. “I was intending to wear my new garments today, as a trial run. But I was needed out in the field and so…” He gestured down at himself with the hand holding the bottles of soda, and Phil was impressed that none of the drinks were dropped in the motion.

“I understand,” Phil replied. “And I’m not at all offended. I rarely see people in our clothes outside of the fittings. And,” he added as they approached an open door towards one end of the hallway, “You look quite fetching like this.”

Thor paused to beam at Phil, a wide grin with white teeth made brighter by the contrast of his beard, and little crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. “As do you,” Thor replied, and though Phil tried to keep his smile small and composed, he had minimal success in hiding his pleasure at the compliment. Not that it was a problem. Not that he was especially motivated to stamp down the sparks of interest flicking up between them. 

It had been a while since Phil had been involved with anyone. He was still friends with his most recent ex, Nick, and they hadn’t broken up so much as they’d always been Friends With Benefits (Who Went on Dates Sometimes) and had mutually cooled things off. Phil had gotten the job with Steve and that had taken up much of his free time, and Nick had always been in the middle of a number of things and seemed relieved to have one less thing to check up on. After that, Phi hadn’t exactly gone looking for more romance. The store kept him busy, and so did Steve – who was frail and cantankerous and hot-headed, but was also smart and creative and thoughtful, and generally balanced out to be a swell kind of guy to spend time with. (Although the sarcasm and bickering could, at times, become a little trying). 

But then Thor had strode into the store and struck up conversation and been charming and delightful, and he’d invited Phil along to the talk and continued to be charming and delightful. It was... nice. It was just very nice to have something simple and easy and pleasant. It was nice to flirt and talk and to _look_. There was a lot of Thor to look over, and Phil was enjoying the challenge.

Thor set the food down at a long table and, wanting to be of help, Phil set about pulling the cling wrap off and making sure the food was neat and appetising. A platter of tiny sandwiches, another of fresh fruits, and a third of crackers and cheeses and little cups of m&ms. It was a good spread, and Thor conspiratorially told Phil that they were leftover’s pilfered from a research funding meeting over at the Medical school. 

“They get good platters,” Phil commented by way of agreement. “The ones at the Law school are mainly muffins and pastries that have been cut in halves.”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “Why are they cut in half?”

“So people can try different types of muffin, I guess.”

“Why do they just not eat multiple whole muffins?” Thor asked. Phil glanced over at him, and Thor seemed genuinely confused as to why people were not going for the obvious solution. The answer, of course, was that most people struggled to get through half of a sticky, slightly-stale muffin with the watery coffee that was served after presentations. Phil suspected that Thor was capable of cleaning out a whole pastry cabinet and having room for lunch after.

“I have no idea,” Phil replied mildly.

“Come,” Thor said, putting a hand on Phil’s arm and tugging him away from the table. “Let me show you my poster!” Phil snagged a cup of m&ms, and let himself be tugged across the room.

It was an enjoyable way to spend the shift from afternoon to evening. Thor was well-versed on the areas his associates researched, but in talking about it he mainly focussed on the elements that he found especially exciting. He didn’t present the methods listed in his poster so much as he would start to explain one diagram and then neatly relate it to something more common, or expand upon it by telling an anecdote. Phil was a bit of a science enthusiast himself, and he enjoyed the way Thor spoke of his work as if it was all so much fun.

And then conversation drifted, and they moved from talking about weather stations and atmospheric changes to higher topics – the solar system and further space. Thor, it turned out, could list all of the named moons in the solar system. It had been a drinking game amongst astronomy students, and had suited Thor well because he had both a competitive streak but also a fondness for drinking. Phil was fast developing a fondness for Thor, and hearing him recite “ _Metis, Adrastea, Amalthea, Thebe, Io, Europe, Ganymede, Callisto, Themisto, Leda..._ ” in rumbled but jaunty rhythm only fanned the small flames flickering in Phil’s chest.

Thor apparently noticed, and gave Phil a pleased, intimate smile. “Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “I shall definitely have to show you the observatory. Perhaps as our next adventure.”

“Going from my work, to you work, to stargazing?” Phil replied. “One seems more adventurous than the others.”

Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and ended up with his body angled more closely towards Phil. “Inviting you along and having you accept... Yes, that seems to have been quite a brave adventure on both our parts.”

Phil’s smile widened. He looked away, needing a moment to keep himself composed. He liked to avoid blushing and becomming giddy in public, when he could. He noticed that a student with long, dark hair was loading up the leftover food onto one of the platters, snacking on the choice bits as she went. The presentation practice runs were, in general, winding down.

“I should get going. Let you all pack up,” Phil said, because he knew that Thor had a flight to prepare for. “Good luck for the conference.”

“Thank you. We shall return within the week,” Thor said.

“You should give me a call when you get back,” Phil replied.

“I intend to. If I can wait that long.”

Phil, being always prepared for certain events, pulled a business card case out of his pocket and slipped a card free. He grabbed a pen off a nearby desk and, using the most convenient sturdy surface, he laid the card over the case and then rested the case against the muscle of Thor’s shoulder. He neatly wrote his email address on the back of the card. He fanned it through the air as he dropped the pen back onto the desk and returned the card case to his pocket. Once he was sure that the ink was dry, he handed it to Thor, who had been watching the whole process with amusement.

“I’ll treasure it,” Thor said solemnly as he took the card. 

Phil let a teasing smile slide across his lips. “You can also use it to drop me a line,” he replied. “If you feel the need.”

“I shall do that also.”

“Good,” Phil said warmly, letting the simple word do all the work. He held Thor’s gaze for a moment, and then broke away, nodding to Thor’s co-workers as he crossed the room and then stepped out into the dark, cool hallway. 

He felt oddly pleased with himself. He was by no means a suave person, but giving Thor his email... it had been painless. Perhaps even a little bit cool of him. He thought about how he’d tell Nick about it. _‘This guy was so firm that I used him as a desk while I was writing it out’_. And then Nick would tease him for using the store business card as a flirting device. Oh well. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps hurrying down the hallway after him. He turned, and was slightly surprised to see Thor jogging towards him.

“I, um.” Thor had always seemed so large and confident, and so Phil looked at him with surprise as the other man struggled to fit words into his mouth. “I thought perhaps I should walk you off campus,” Thor finally explained. “To be certain that you don’t lose your way.”

The campus was well lit – the sun hadn’t completely set, and Phil knew that there were many street lights lining the broad walkways. But, he told himself, Thor should be allowed to make the thoughtful gesture. 

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” he replied. 

The air outside was cooler than it had been earlier, but not uncomfortably so. There was the scent of some kind of flower perfuming the air, and the sky was a mix of fruity oranges and deepening purples as night approached. Phil had loosened his tie after work, and he ran his hand down the front of his vest as they walked across the campus, checking that he still looked presentable. Thor tracked the movement, and one side of his mouth tugged up into an amused smile.

“I’m glad you came,” Thor said, ending the comfortable silence that had settled around them.

“Me too. Thank you for inviting me.”

They approached one of the wrought iron gates that led out to the quiet side street where Phil had parked his car. They paused there, not quite facing one another as they dealt with the awkwardness of parting ways.

“Would it be inappropriate for me to kiss you?” Phil asked, because he had been contemplating the idea for some time, and he would rather get some feedback on the notion than rush into things. Thor looked relieved at the suggestion, his broad shoulders dropping slightly as tension left them. He nodded, and Phil moved closer. 

Phil needed to rise up onto his toes, and Thor had to lower his head. One of Thor’s hands settled at Phil’s side, steadying him. It was a team effort for them to bring their faces close together, and Phil paused for a brief moment to enjoy the mix of aromas that were draped around Thor. Thor’s lips where warm, and the softness of them was an interesting contrast to the surrounding facial hair. Not the sandpaper scrape of a five o’clock shadow, or the uncomfortable prickle of longer stubble, but a smoother texture. It was a relatively chaste kiss, lips parting only just enough to allow a brief taste of one another. Thor tasted mildly like the ginger ale he had been drinking as he and Phil had talked; Phil’s own mouth still tasted of chocolate. 

Phil pulled away first, lowering himself down so that his feet were once more flat against the pavement. One of his hands still rested against Thor’s chest, and Thor brought a hand up to cup the side of Phil’s face. He smiled fondly as he stroked his thumb once over Phil’s cheekbone and then lowered his hand. Phil lowered his own hand from where it rested above Thor’s heart, and grasped one of Thor’s large hands, squeezing it briefly.

“I’ll see you soon,” he offered.

Thor let his gaze roam over Phil’s face for a moment, as if trying to absorb every line and faint freckle. He seemed to search for a rejoinder, but he was only able to smile warmly at Phil and nod. Phil squeezed Thor’s hand once more, and then made his departure. 

He grinned to himself as he walked to his car. He felt the buzz of all the different nuances of liking someone lighting him up. It had been a good date. Phil was, despite his polished attire, a man of simple pleasures. And free food, science-talk, and attractive company had thoroughly won him over. He was sure that his good mood would bleed over into the following day. It would annoy Steve to no end, and that thought only made Phil’s smile deepen.


End file.
